Teach me, my God, not to chase what is fair,
To be harder than stone or metal ware,
Not to hide real feelings behind manners and guise,
And leave everything that bring tears to eyes.
Teach me be flexible and accept what must be,
To breathe in life's wisdom when storms cover me.
Stop me being perfect, so proper and right,
As cozy as slippers or bed at night.
Teach me to see people,s flaws at a glance,
To humble expectations and forgive in advance,
No fear for farewells, inevitable grief,
Not to seek justice, just to live, simply live!
Teach me, my God
© Copyright: Юлия Набатова, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125102703838
Свидетельство о публикации №125102703838
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